Manly massage

Bachchu’s fingers slowly approached my neck. I was wearing a
mangalsutra (a kind of gold necklace with black beads – a sign of married
Indian ladies) and perhaps that was causing a bit of hindrance to his
massage. He asked me if I would remove my mangalsutra. Unlike other
Indian ladies, I am free from any prejudice and I willingly unhooked that
from my neck. Bachchu took it from me and carefully put it on the bedside
desk. He could then massage my throat and the neck region without any
obstruction. After this, Bachchu took my right palm in his hand and gently
rubbed it with his palm. Then he individually massaged each of my fingers.
He was doing everything with such a great care that I had a great feeling
of liking from within. He repeated the same things with my left palm. He
was all the time talking to me and that must have helped in making the
atmosphere easy. I was having pink nail polish on my nails. Bachchu
smiled and joked, “Mashima, everything is pink for you today.” With the oil
on it, those were glittering. The next item of massage was surely my
hands. Bachchu removed all my bangles from my hand. Even the “sankha” and
“pala” (a special kind of bangle used by married Bengali ladies) were off
my hands. He then rubbed my hands with force, sometimes pressing and
kneading. I could sense that my blood flow was increasing and I was
feeling hot, even though the ceiling fan was revolving right above my head.
Bachchu gathered greater and greater strength and continued to massage my
hands upto the elbows for some more time. My blouse was covering rest of
my hands. When his fingers moved above my elbows, he softly whispered in
my ears, “Mashima, apnar blouse ta –“(madam, your blouse please). I
guessed because of his shyness he couldn’t complete the sentence, but I
could clearly get the signal that he wanted my blouse removed. Although, I
was under this tension for a long time before my massage, when the moment
came, I was so much engrossed in the massage that I didn’t hesitate to
remove it. I unbuttoned the blouse from the front and Bachchu helped me to
take it out of my hands. I had a bra inside and I covered the exposed
parts of my back with the pallu (the upper part) of my saree. Bachchu’s
fingers could now freely move above my elbows, right upto my shoulder
joints and arm pits. He was saying that my hands were too soft and
massaged them with greater strength and energy. I was having increased
blood circulation and wanted him to continue the massage in this manly way.
He then rubbed my shoulders and uncovered my pallu to the extent that he
could completely massage the upper area of my back. He asked me how I was
feeling. I admitted that the massage was bringing great comforts to me and
he was surely doing a great job. While he was massaging my back and
especially my pain region, I suddenly felt that all my pain had suddenly
gone. It was just incredible. I was deeply engrossed and I didn’t even
bothered to protest, as Bachchu’s trembling fingers unhooked my brassier
strap at the back. GOD !! I was never prepared for this. Bachchu slowly
removed my bras, as I tried to protect my boobs with my saree. My servant
was sitting behind me and could freely massage all over my bare back.

He started gently with my spinal chord and the regions around it and
massaged with force when he came to the sides of my back. At one stage, I
felt that his fingers were quite close to me breasts. I was wondering what
would happen, if his fingers accidentally touched my breasts ! The moment
this fear came to my mind, my heart started throbbing. I was torn between
embarrassment and arousal. I realized I was getting horny – my face was
getting red, my eyes were burning, my pulse rate was increasing and I
started getting a sexy sensation between my legs. I knew that given the
employer-servant relationship between us, Bachchu would never dare to touch
me there. But, somehow, at that moment, all my sexual desires, which were
absent for the past few months got revived. I desparately wanted a male
hand to touch me there. For the first time, I dared to have a dirty
fantasy of my servant grabbing my breasts. GOD !! What am I doing ? Am I
forgetting all social norms and taboos ? Am I still in my senses ? I
realized all my powers of arguments, powers of thinking were gone. At that
moment I only wanted a hard male squeezing of my breasts. I was
desparately waiting for an accident to happen. But no! No accident was
happening ! His hands were still keeping a modest distance. I was getting
restless for a touch. At one stage, I just pointed fingers to my boobs and
asked with a husky, trembling voice, “Wouldn’t you massage me here ? ”

I turned my face to him. The twenty year old young man blushed and
looked red. I tried to look at his pyjama. His swollen cock made it a
tent and I could make out how horny he was. That made me more excited. I
was trying to visualize his erect manhood inside his pyjamas and felt that
my hot cunt started tingling strangely and I could sense my molten cunt
cream after a prolonged period of abstenance from sex.

” Masima, I –I thought you wouldn’t allow me to do it there –” he was
clearly stammering in excitement and fear. “No, no, you are a very good
boy. Why should I mind ? Afterall, it’s a massage isn’t it ?” , I tried
to assure.

Bachchu could wait any longer. He oiled his palm again and pressed my
breasts. GOD ! Was I cheating my husband ? I surely was. I was married
for 15 years. It was for the first time in my married life that a person
other than my husband had taken control of my breasts. “Ohh …! Squeeze
it …. ! Squeeze it more …!” that’s what I wanted to shout, but I
tried to apply my control. Bachchu was faithfully oiling my breasts. My
hard nipples, the black circle surrounding that and all over. He was doing
with his both hands- sometimes softly, sometimes tightly, giving a
different sensation at every moment. GOD ! Who taught him to be a lover
like this ? Nature ? I wondered. For the first time, I started making
verbal expressions. “Don’t feel shy – do it nicely, a—h just like this
!!” Bachchu was too excited to talk to me. He faithfully obliged and drove
me wild with greater and greater ecstasies.